


The Hollow Man

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, Smut, domestic humor if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 12:45:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17080574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: For four years Rick Grimes has been searching for someone, only to find him tear out of an RV with a bat on his shoulder and a manic grin on his face.





	The Hollow Man

**Author's Note:**

> Very important note: Lucille and Lori's death occurred much earlier than the apocalypse and Rick and Michonne's relationship has been established earlier. Although I tagged it as the show, I mixed the lore of Rick's past to serve my purpose.
> 
> Sweet.

_“Those who have crossed_

_With direct eyes, to death’s other kingdom_

_Remember us - if at all - not as lost_

_Violent souls, but only_

_As the hollow men_

_The stuffed men.”_

-T.S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

Nothing bites like the cold.

Rick knelt on the forest floor, sharp rocks grinding into his bruised knees. His jaw flexed as he ground his teeth, pride refusing to let them chatter. With each collapse of his chest, a misty haze rose above his head, a brief puff of warmth before floating into the night sky.

The people next to him weren’t fairing much better. What was once a group of titans were now huddled over the dirt, battered and broken. Eugene bowed his head, letting out a strangled sob. His face was swollen and bruised from the brutal beating he had endured, a side-effect of a rare act of courage. Maggie was barely upright, drooping eyes clouded with fever. Rick tore his gaze away, his own eyes cast downwards in shame.

A gust of wind wrapped through the trees, blowing a wisp of sweat-drenched bangs across Rick’s forehead. The imposing circle of men and women, broad-shouldered and fingers hovering over the triggers of their guns, that encapsulated them squashed any chance of fight or flight, though adrenaline begged otherwise. Any attempt at escape would earn a bullet to the back of their skulls. Maggie was already on death’s door as it is — they didn’t need to knock.

The Saviors had been wearing them thin for days. Rick had struck the first blow, slipping a blade between the mysterious group’s ribs as they slept. It had been in the name of a newfound alliance. Alexandria was bleeding, and they were desperate for food. It had been over four years since the fall of civilization; scavenging was becoming harder, and the days were getting colder. The choice seemed obvious when Jesus told them about the extortionist vice the Saviors had on them. Food for protection. Little did they know that their prey would bite back.

Their hell burst out of the RV in a flurry of black leather and a cheeky grin.

“Pissin’ our pants yet?”

Rick had heard the echo of Negan’s name these last few days, but he had dismissed it as a contrived coincidence. Now, he hoped they would dismiss the shock painted on his face and the vacancy in his blue eyes as horror.    

“ _Negan_?”

It ripped the breath from Rick’s lungs.

Negan swiveled to Carl, his smile not shrinking an inch. He looked the same, if not for a little more white in his beard. The apocalypse had taken away a few pounds, making his lean frame even smaller. Perched on his shoulder was a bat wrapped in barbed wire.

Of course.

Hundreds of tiny blades whispered just above Carl’s nose as Negan turned the bat in front of him.  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about kid.”

Carl wasn’t interested. He shuffled forward amongst the muffled gasps of his peers. “Dad!” he flung his arm out, staring at Rick. His one eye was blown wide.

The air shifted as every pair of eyes turned to him. Rick could feel their combined gaze blistering on his skin. He wavered, mouth agape as he bowed his head. His eyes remained a blue haze as he stared listlessly ahead. He existed in a horror where the people he loved died twice, but he was still struggling to breathe.

Negan chuckled, tickled pink by the fallen leader. Rick could taste the bile in his throat; the apocalypse had swallowed Negan up and spit out something twisted and vile.

Negan had always been domineering. Rick had lost count of the number of times he had burst through their front door, vein bulging in his neck after he was sent home from his job at the high school. He cussed out the kids, making them run laps and do jumping jacks until they collapsed. Yet that odd charm had them trickling into their garage for ping pong matches the same afternoon. Negan loved the kids — as much as he hated them — and they liked him. Negan was a natural born leader. However, Rick never saw him as the man who would have his boot on their necks.

With a click of the tongue, Negan strolled down the line. Rick watched his friends stiffen as he passed. It wasn’t until a pair of black boots came into sight that Rick swallowed, fist clenching against his thigh.

“Change of plans!” Negan barked. “You,” - he swooped the bat towards Rick’s face, a light breeze following in her wake- “and you, come with me.”

Carl’s mouth was a thin line as he got to his feet. Michonne’s lower lip trembled as she watched her stepson be carted off to the lion’s den. Too smart to reach for him, her arms still jerked all the same.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” Carl reassured.

“Rick, do something!” Maggie hissed. The force of her words sent a tremor through her body, forcing her to stop and take a breath. Her pale skin was slick with sweat.

“Christ, I have to do everything myself!”

Rick let out a strangled yack as a gloved hand yanked him up by the collar. He flopped and squirmed as Negan dragged him across the clearing, boots kicking up dust as he struggled to get his footing.

Negan refused to meet Rick’s eye as he tossed him into the RV.

Carl caught his father in a tangle of limbs. “Are you okay?” Half of Carl’s face was shrouded in shadow.

Rick nodded, touching a finger to his lips before pressing his back against the wall. Rick didn’t believe in a god — not after the world began to rot — but he knew a chance when he saw one. His fingers ghosted over the handle of his hatchet and his eyes met his son’s. Carl’s breath hitched before he nodded.

Negan entered the RV with a slam. Peeling off his glove, he draped it over his shoulder and turned to Carl. His eyes narrowed just as Rick lunged. The blade whistled through the air, begging to be buried into Negan’s skull. Swift as a cat, Negan ducked, letting the hatchet sink into the RV siding with a ‘thunk!’

“You try to kill _me_?” Negan slammed the bat's hilt into Rick’s solar plexus, leaving him gasping for air. He got to his feet. “What the fucking fuck? You really think you can pull that shit with that dumbass standing over there? I can read that kid like a Playboy on the fucking toilet!” Rick writhed on the ground, hands clutching at his chest. “Fuck you, Rick! Seriously!”

“Will you just stop?” Carl shouted, jumping between the two men. He held his hands out as if he was staving off two wild dogs.

“Fuck you, you little asshole,” Negan snorted with a twirl of his wrist.

Carl’s nostrils flared before he stomped into the back bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Rick sat up, his mouth and chin glistening with drool. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

“Gargle my balls, Rick,” Negan drawled, settling down inside the breakfast nook. He set the bat down on the table, making the linoleum jump.

One hand braced against the wall for balance, Rick stood on shaky legs. “You upset him.”

“ _I_ upset him?”

“Yes.”

The RV was silent as the men scrutinized each other. It was an argument that belonged at the dinner table, amongst the mashed potatoes and meatloaf. It was far too domestic for the world they lived in and borderline comedic.

Negan’s jaw worked back and forth, eyes slits before he slid his fingers together and smirked. “Jesus, shit.”

Negan slid around the table, brushing past Rick in a familiar whirlwind of leather and bourbon. Rick’s eyes fluttered closed, a drunken ease of home steadying his heartbeat — but it was gone as soon as it came with three sharp knocks.

“Hey, turdburger! I’m fucking sorry. I’m an asshole, remember? Or has this cockup made you forget?” A muffled snort made Negan turn, a grin cutting across his face as he jabbed a thumb towards the door.

The lock clicked open and Carl stood in the doorway, face floating between teenage petulance and bemusement before it crumbled.

“We went back to the house, but you weren’t there.” Carl wiped his nose. “Dad got shot while you were with Grandma in Annapolis. Is she -?”

Negan shook his head. “This shit isn’t for old people, kid. Once we figured out what was going down, she wanted to go out in style.”

Carl nodded, face set in unfortunate understanding. “Yeah.”

“You know, for a Grimes family reunion, you seem to have a real stick up your ass, Rick.”

“You have my family on-on their knees outside! A woman is dying!” Rick stuttered and seethed, a vein bulging in his temple.

With a gentleness that did not match his new persona, Negan pushed Carl away from his chest. “In case you haven’t noticed, _babe_ , we’re all fuckin’ dying. So excuse my balls for putting those assholes in their place because your family is in here.”

“I’m in love.” Rick placed a hand on his own waist. “Me, Carl, and Judith have a life — a home.”

Negan was silent, his expression unreadable as he searched Rick’s face. “Carl, go outside and wait by my man Simon. Tell him I said hands off.” His hand slid from Carl’s shoulder.

“What if he doesn’t believe me?”

Negan handed Carl the bat. “He’ll believe you. With my girl on your shoulder, you could probably get him to suck you off.”

“Hey!” Rick’s voice filled the small vehicle.

Carl offered Rick a final look of uncertainty before hiking the bat on his shoulder and disappearing into the night. For the first time in four years, the men were alone with each other.

Negan didn’t give Rick the chance to speak. “What the shit?” he spat, shoving a hand against Rick’s chest. “‘Til death do us part,’ Rick, and in case you haven’t noticed, I ain’t dead!”

The table bit into Rick’s lower back as Negan gave him another shove. “We looked for you.”

“Where? In every samurai lady’s vagina you happened to stumble across?” Negan leered when Rick bowed his head. “Oh, I know your type. Bet you hopped onto the pussy train as soon as you knew you wouldn’t be getting dicked down every night — and don’t for a second think I don’t smell your shit, Rick Grimes. I don’t know what fuckin’ excuse you told that group of jizz stains out there, but the fact of the matter is, you’re in Virginia and oh fucking boy, do I know why.”

Every part of their bodies touched as Negan looked down at Rick, a self-satisfied smile slicing across his face like an opened wound. “I know why you’re in Virginia. I know why you killed my men, and I know why you just sat out there with your mouth shut.”

Rick straightened his spine. Their breath mingled as they glared daggers. “Why’s that?”

“You’re still looking for me.”

Their mouths came together so hard their teeth clinked. Rick should have been thinking about Michonne kneeling on the cold ground as he raked his fingers through Negan’s neatly combed hair — but the familiarity underneath his fingertips, filling his lungs, and pressing against his thigh was intoxicating.

Negan undid Rick’s belt as he smeared his lips against his ear. “I’m gonna slide your dick down my throat and holy shit, if the idea of pussy doesn’t make your balls recede into your body, I’m chopping mine off.”

Rick was already panting by the time Negan knelt down, dragging his fingers down Rick’s chest before grabbing a handful of his ass, wrenching him forward.

“Time to see how my little friend is doing. Not even sure of what he looks like now.”

“Not little.” Rick couldn’t stop touching Negan; he traced patterns across his cheeks and over his eyelids. With his thumb, Rick dragged down a plump lip before Negan took it between his teeth.

When Negan slipped Rick out of his pants, he let out a long whistle. “Fuck me tender, Grimes,” he swiped his thumb over his cock’s swollen head and Rick swore he couldn’t breathe, “better than what I tucked away for the ol’ spank bank.”

Negan’s usual pristine hair was curling around his temples in a charming mess. Rick’s chest swelled with affection as he gathered a fistful in his hand, clinging onto him for dear life as Negan flattened out his tongue and took him in his mouth. In a strangled act of euphoria, Rick’s hips jutted forward, but Negan’s hands clamped onto his waist, pinning him down.

Negan slid his tongue along the bottom of Rick’s shaft, licking a slow teasing line along the length of Rick’s cock. He traced the stretch of vein running underneath the velvety flesh he knew so well, hazel gaze never breaking blue. With narrow eyes, he lurched Rick forward, the smooth leather of his jacket flush against Rick’s legs. Hollowing out his cheeks, he buried his nose in the smattering of exposed hair at Rick’s navel before he began to bob his head.

Rick’s eyes drooped closed and his nostrils flared. “Fuck.” He placed his hand on the back of Negan’s head.

Negan ran circles around Rick’s thigh with his thumb, a loving gesture Rick noticed until Negan cupped his balls.

“What the fuck?” Negan snorted, eyebrow arched at Rick’s gasp. He dragged his hand over his swollen lips.

“Haven’t felt that in a while,” Rick sputtered through a heated face. “Surprised me.”

“Wow, samurai lady’s neglecting your goddamn nuts?” Negan looked much too haughty for someone who was just giving head. With an amused scrunch of his nose, he tipped Rick over the edge.

It was filthy and obscene to have the man who had his friends on their knees merely yards away kneeling before him with his dick in his mouth. And in that moment of sex, debauchery, and reunion, Rick remembered he never had it this good with anyone else. He came fast — not because he was deprived, but because it was the first time he had sex with his husband in a long time.

“I love you,” the words tumbled out of Rick’s mouth without a thought as Negan was getting to his feet.

“If I knew it only took a blowjob for you to admit your undying love for me, I would have had you drop trou’ the second we got in here….before you tried to murder me.” Negan pulled Rick to him. The kiss was gentle, a tentative promise of what was to come, the tangy taste of semen still on Negan’s tongue.

Rick sat on the bench, fingers still lingering on Negan’s waist. “Come back with me.” The words were easy, something he had practiced over the last four years. Rick had battled walkers and spilt the blood of his foes with the idea that Negan would jump at the chance to come home to his family, but Rick’s offer was met with dead air.

As the silence dragged on, Negan’s frown deepened. Rick gripped at Negan’s jacket — he was supposed to say yes.

“No can do, Rick.”

Rick’s hackles raised. “What?”

“You said you have a family, Rick? Well, I have an assload of people I look after. Then that assload of people needs to take care of another assload of people — the ones you colluded with.” Negan rocked back on his heels and placed a hand on his chest. “See, I’m a nice fuckin’ guy and after I make my point, the Saviors will go back to saving people.”

Rick snorted. The only thing Negan ruled before was a pair of gym shorts and a pack of high schoolers. “That’s what you call it?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t had to do shit to keep people in line, Rick. Rules are rules and I know that you’ve brought the hammer down once or twice on your...family. Probably scared the shit out of them, too.”

_If you kill, you die._

He had tried. Rick had been a small town cop, thrust into a place of leadership because he held a badge — but he had never fired his gun until the day he had been shot. People looked to him as if he held all the answers when he was just a man, stumbling through the unknown like everyone else. He knew the law, but they were living in a lawless time and sometimes, doing what was necessary to survive took precedence over doing what was right. But the line was thin, and Rick lost sleep over the times he had crossed it.

The sound of Tyreese’s body as it crashed onto the prison floor rang hollow in Rick’s ears and he clenched his hand; it was still scarred from when he beat Thomas Richards within an inch of his life.

“Carl thought I was gonna kill him,” Rick whispered.

“I bet he did,” Negan said, kissing Rick’s forehead. “But you have to do whatever’s necessary. It’s the new world order and if these people don’t know who the fuck is laying down the law, they’ll smack your ass.”

Rick shook his head. “You can’t be that naïve.”

Negan rolled his eyes as he plucked a two-way radio from his hip. Leaving Rick with another hollow kiss, he flicked on the receiver. “Simon, I’m gonna need you to get Carl into one of the trucks — and not a goddamn hair better be out of place. That’s my fucking son.”

“Will do, boss man,” Simon’s voice crackled over the speaker.

Rick leapt to his feet “What is this?”

Negan blinked, looking affronted by Rick’s mood swing. “This, Rick, is me taking care of my own. You hauled that perky ass all up the east coast looking for me and guess what? You got it! Let me make one thing clear, Sheriff: you belong to me.” He stood at his full height. “Now I’m gonna go bash your friends’ brains in. That stunt you pulled was some grade-A bullshit.”

“I did it to find you!” Rick lunged, but Negan threw him back onto the table.

“And it’s the thought that counts, Rick. That’s why you’re getting off with not even a slap on the ass. But it cannot go unpunished. I am just a stickler for rules.” He smoothed back his hair before flinging an arm around Rick’s shoulders. “Besides, you’re riding with Carl.”

The misty blue haze of dawn greeted them when they stepped outside. A light fog had settled over the clearing, shrouding Rick’s friends in a Stephen King-esque mist. While he had been inside getting head, they had been sitting in a living purgatory, waiting for judgment.

“All right, you bunch of assholes, let’s get this show on the road!” Negan took the bat from Carl’s hand, a manic glee tearing across his face. Rick’s felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he watched the bat twirl in lazy loops. Negan danced like a sadistic ringmaster on opening night. He was a husk of the man he once was, a duality of what had been and the poison of the new world order. He was hollow.

Rick was relieved when Carl didn’t ask any questions. Instead, he gave their escorting Saviors a withering stare from underneath the brim of his stetson. “What are we going to do?” he asked as Rick ducked into the cabin.

The engine started with a purr and Rick swallowed. “Negan doesn’t know we changed, too.”

_Sightless, unless_

_The eyes reappear_

_As the perpetual star_

_Multifoliate rose_

_Of death’s twilight kingdom_

_The hope only_

_Of empty men._

**Author's Note:**

> This was a WIP I wanted to get out before my quick hiatus. I hope for it to be a series if enough people like it because I really want to see a pre-apocalypse, established relationship full-length story.
> 
> Big thank you to [genevievedarcygranger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger), who looked over my garbage first draft while I sat by and complained the whole time.
> 
> Look for me [here](https://redwinehousey.tumblr.com/) while I'm away


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